


Clint's Writer's Block

by shaneequa



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Clint found his cure, F/M, Some college au, because everyone remembers staring at the screen not knowing what to write, peppermint mocha is also mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-15
Updated: 2013-11-15
Packaged: 2018-01-01 15:17:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1045453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaneequa/pseuds/shaneequa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>College AU. Clint doesn't know what to write/how to start his essay. Enter Natasha.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clint's Writer's Block

**Author's Note:**

> Really just a way to cure my personal writer's block as I write this twelve page paper.

College students and coffee. It was pretty much a given, especially for struggling college students like Clinton Barton. While Clint wished he could just major in something he was passionate about like music or philosophy, at the end of the day he had to go where the money was. Economics and management. He hated graphs. Most of all, he hated writing papers about business management and the economy, because really... there were people more educated than him who could do so.

Sometimes he wished he was as smart as Stark, his friend who was taking four different majors, and never once had been stressed about making a deadline for anything. It was like the man learned by osmosis and it just wasn't fair.

Or maybe he should've joined the military. Surely the Army could use his skills at never missing, ever. Steve always inspired him when he came back for his leaves talking about the cool shit that he got to do  like jumping out of planes or shooting shit with giant guns.

But no, there he was, sitting hunched over his desk with papers all over his desk. He already cleaned his room, went out with some buddies for a quick drink, and came back with pages of his paper still needing writing.

Well, fuck. He was screwed.

Speaking of screwed, Clint glance at his phone checking his messages. Natasha hadn't replied to him in a couple of minutes knowing that she had night classes.

Natasha was, without a doubt, the hottest girl that he had ever laid eyes on. Too bad she was off limits, and honestly was his best friend. He wouldn't ruin a friendship with her like that.

Right on cue, his phone lit up with a message from Natasha. _Finally done with class, can I come over?_

Clint smiled, _Yep. Keep me company while I write this paper._

He saw that she was typing up a response right then and decided to just wait on his phone. _You need a pick me up? I'll stop by the store or something._

_I'm good. You should come soon and be my muse -- or whatever the fuck they call that._

He could see Natasha rolling her eyes as she read the message a small smirk on her face.

 _Be there soon_.

 _Can't wait_.

Clint sighed looking around his room. He shared an apartment with Stark which was great because Stark's billionaire father insisted to pay their rent so he didn't have to spend money on that. He looked needing to make sure that his room was at least presentable for company, even though Natasha has been in his place when his clothes were scattered all over the floor and the carpet as nowhere to be seen. But still, he didn't want to seem like he didn't care at all for appearances.

Sighing, he turned to his computer, the blank page in front of him. Staring at him, telling him to _write something_ but he couldn't really do anything about it.

He stared at the blank page putting on the header and page number.

That was as far as he got when Natasha strolled into his room, after two knocks.

"Hey there, handsome," she greeted him, dropping her bag on the floor and jumping on his bed.

"Hey hot sauce," he greeted back turning around on his desk chair to face her. As per usual, she looked beautiful, a smile on her face as she leaned back on her hands on his bed.

"Got you something," Natasha told him reaching down to where she dropped her bag. She pulled out a grocery bag from her book bag and handed him a plastic covered banana nut muffin (his favorite). She then reached down to the paper tray of drinks and handed him a hot Styrofoam cup. "Knew you'd be needing this."

Clint placed the muffin to his side on his desk and turned to grab the hot beverage in Natasha's grasp. He took off the lid and sniffed. Peppermint Mocha. He was in heaven.

"Thanks Tash, you're the best!"

Natasha smiled at him in response. "I know."

"You want to split the muffin?" Clint asked knowing her answer already would be yes. Natasha refused to eat a whole muffin by herself, mostly because she was still watching her weight due to her dancing and a performance for the Nutcracker was coming up with her in it.

"I would," she stated reaching for her own cup and taking a sip. He already know what was in it, caramel crème brule. Her favorite.

"Good day today?"

She shrugged. "As good as any. I swear after this performance I'm taking a break."

"You always say that, Tash. You never mean it."

"And you always say you'd stop procrastinating, but look at your paper... you haven't even started."

Clint looked over at his screen then over to her with a guilty expression which he quickly manipulated into a smirk. "Was just waiting for my muse to come inspire me."

Natasha chuckled shaking her head, placing her cup down on his bed careful not to spill it before reaching for her book bag and pulling out her laptop. "You've been watching too many romantic movies, Barton."

"Only so I can learn how to please you, Romanoff," he replied with a wink.

She rolled her eyes at that, powering her laptop on. “Oh please, you know that shit doesn't work on me."

"Do I ever," Clint muttered under his breath, spinning his chair to face the computer screen. He sighed.

"You're hopeless," she stated not taking her eyes off her computer screen.

"You," Clint replied typing _The_ on the computer. Well, at least he got a word in, right?

"Please, I'm almost done with _my_ paper and it's all of twenty pages long," Natasha smiled at him.

"One of these days, I'm going to figure out your secret," he replied typing another string of words onto the page. Well, at least he's farther off now with a sentence at hand.

"Nope," he heard her say somewhere behind him.

"Why not?"

"It's a secret," she whispered in his ear, her tongue flicking his ear a little. He gulped at that hoping it was an accident. They never took this banter farther than that, never physically acted on his -- their -- obvious attraction to one another for fear of what it would do to their friendship.

She placed her hands on the top of his seat, spinning his chair around so that he was facing her.

"You really stuck on that?" she asked him nodding her head over to the monitor. Her face was so close to his that he didn't know what to say, couldn't even breathe for fear of doing the wrong thing. They had been in that position too many times and too many times he felt that he had done something to upset her because she would just turn away.

Without any warning, she leaned over and brushed her lips against his. "It's not due until tomorrow afternoon."

Clint sat there shocked still, just shaking his head. The girl of his dreams just kissed him? What was going on?

"Clint? Say something?"

He coughed a little to clear his throat. "No, not it's not due till the afternoon."

"You wanna watch a movie then? Work on it tomorrow morning?" she asked tilting her head to the direction of the TV in his room.

"Yeah," he replied still confused at the turn of events.

"Great," she smiled at him taking the remote off his desk and turning on the  TV and the Xbox which played movies. She popped in one of their favorites, a comedy about nothing.

She then went back to sitting on his bed, leaning back on her arms watching him as he sat frozen in his chair.

"Clint? Are you watching the movie with me?" she asked him, tilting her head in the way that he found irresistible.  Clint nodded his head, stood up from his chair and flopped on to the bed next to her, thankful that she was mindful enough o place her cup of coffee on the floor.

He looked at her expectantly, confused, and wondering what she would do next. If he was still dreaming.

She didn't say anything, instead kept eye contact with him and she curled up on the bed, grabbing his pillow and setting it on his lap, then resting her head there.

"Tash? What's going on?" Clint finally asked in the middle of the movie as he played with her soft red hair.

"Nothing," she shrugged, her attention still on the film they have watched a thousand times.

"Why now?"

"Why not now?"

Needless to say, Clint was not able to finish his paper to turn into class the next day, he was a little distracted.


End file.
